


for a minute, just leave it alone (but you're not alone)

by TheEnlightenment



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry Keonhee, M/M, Suicide Attempt, so in love, so many petnames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEnlightenment/pseuds/TheEnlightenment
Summary: It’s not that he owes him an explanation, Keonhee wants to talk about it before he forgets it all in sleep.“I’m sorry.” His throat feels blocked, swallowing down more tears.“I don’t need an apology, love.” It’s not just him saying it. An apology for something like this is absurd, he gets the idea. He understands that Keonhee wants him to know he’s sorry about almost leaving him without a clue. It just isn’t needed though. Youngjo knows, he’ll always know. The only thing that matters is that Keonhee is here, eating his food and getting ready for bed in his arms.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Keonhee
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	for a minute, just leave it alone (but you're not alone)

**Author's Note:**

> Did I write this as catharsis? Yes, I did. It's not perfect, but I like it. I hope someone else does too. 
> 
> We're never alone, but we can fight on our own if we have to.

The smell assaults Youngjo first, the acrid sour stench of stomach acid - vomit. Keonhee’s vomit. The second thing that nearly knocks him back onto his soles, dizzy with the realization of what’s happening in this dimly lit apartment, are the pills strewn all around the floor. Keonhee is nowhere in the room, but Youngjo can hear sobs in the bathroom. He stumbles, trips - catching himself before hitting the ground, and runs towards the terrifying noise. He throws the door open as if it’s locked, but it isn’t - not even shut all the way. He sees a sickeningly pale looking Keonhee heaving over a toilet, nothing coming out. Youngjo falls to his knees, patting the younger’s back and murmuring the only thing he can think of.    
  
“It’s going to be okay.” He can feel Keonhee untense in his back a bit at the reassurance. “Hee, I need you to tell me how many you took. Do I need to call an ambulance?” Youngjo is staying calm purely for his boyfriend’s sake, stroking his hair and rubbing his back soothingly. Keonhee leans back, his head resting on the wall behind him. Youngjo can see him trembling, full body shakes as he continues to cry to himself. “Keonhee, baby. Please.” He’s still calm, but the desperate worry bleeds through enough for Keonhee’s glassy eyes to meet his and close for a second before he shakes his head.   
  
“I threw them all up.” His voice is raspy, he’s been crying for a long time. Youngjo’s heart breaks to think he was working on some stupid paper that doesn’t matter at all as Keonhee spent what he thought would be his last moments in here, crying on his own. Nothing matters more than him, not right now. Maybe not ever. Youngjo is helplessly in love, boyfriends for nearly a year now and all Youngjo wants is to learn every single piece of Keonhee. He wants to stay with him forever and see it all. He buries the panic starting at the thought he nearly lost that tonight, then tells himself to focus on the man in front of him and not what ifs. He’s still here.    
  
“Maybe we need to just in case.” Youngjo is reaching for his cell phone in his jeans pocket but Keonhee’s shaky hand reaches out in such a way that makes him pause.    
  
“I barely even swallowed three before the fear made me throw it all up. I swear. Please. I can’t take a hospital right now.” Keonhee’s voice breaks once more, his body shaking harder. “I can’t.”    
  
“What do you need right now?” Youngjo would do anything, will do anything. “Anything you want, my love.” Keonhee’s face crumbles as he looks at his lover’s face, tracing every line, and he reaches out his arms once more - wanting nothing more than a hug. Youngjo nearly launches himself at him, wrapping his arms hard around his boyfriend’s trembling form and feeling the sweat seeping through his tee. He doesn’t smell pleasant but no one could care less. Youngjo guesses he hasn’t been showering, his hair greasy and stubble on his chin, despite what he promised him over text every day he’s been checking in.    
  


The two have witnessed an unfortunate separation, Youngjo having a lot of graduate work to do and work being so demanding. He’s done all he can to spend any moment he has with him, but it’s been nearly impossible and most nights he goes to his own apartment to crash rather than crawl into Keonhee’s bed like most nights - his work computer being there. He thinks maybe he should ask about moving in together, was considering before this night anyway, but tucks it for later - knowing it’s not what he needs right now.    
  
“No, I smell so bad.” Keonhee tries to push him away, weakly. “Youngjo.” He whines.    
  
“I’m not letting go of you.” Youngjo lets the hurt color his voice, the fear still coursing through him right now. “You smell fine.”    
  
“You’re a bad liar.” Keonhee laughs, and Youngjo smiles just at the sound. “I want to shower.”    
  
“Okay, baby.”   
  
“But-” Youngjo watches Keonhee’s face flush and then his eyes carry shame Youngjo wants to pluck out and throw down the drain - not a single thing to be ashamed of. “I don’t think I have the strength, the motivation, to do it myself.” He doesn’t have to say any more, Youngjo stands lifting Keonhee with him and placing him gently on the toilet seat he’s put down with his left foot. He turns on the shower, making sure the temperature is perfect and counts the bottles inside - making sure the  _ good  _ shampoo that Keonhee likes is in there to use. He gets a fluffy towel, the nice ones Keonhee yells at him for using sometimes because he doesn’t like to wash them often, hoping to keep them as they are forever. Their arguments are silly, only a few times ever fighting to the point they weren’t actually happy with each other, and they get over it quickly. This time Keonhee doesn’t argue about the towel. Youngjo helps him take all his clothes off, treating him so gently like he might break if pressed too hard.    
  
“Do you want to wash your hair?” Youngjo only wants what Keonhee wants, it’s the same vice versa so it all evens out. Keonhee nods and Youngjo gets to lathering up the slim man, hands massaging his scalp and Keonhee melts into Youngjo’s front - any other time, this might start a kiss, a touch, something more - but now Youngjo just lets him use him for support and smiles down with such fond eyes. “Beautiful.”    
  
“I look so bad. I haven’t even shaved.”    
  
“You can never look bad.” Keonhee scoffs, but Youngjo doesn’t miss the slight smile tugging at his lips. “Baby.” He turns him slightly, landing a soft kiss on his wet lips. “You know I mean that.”    
  
“I know.” Keonhee whispers. “I-”   
  
“You don’t have to talk about it tonight. Let’s just get you taken care of. Are you hungry?” Keonhee looks like he’ll cry again, but he leans his forehead forward onto Youngjo’s bare chest and takes a deep breath. They finish up in the shower, Keonhee taking the time to shave because he’s tired of not looking like his usual self. Youngjo cleans up the living room as he does so, spraying the room to cover the smell that’s bringing back the panic in his lungs. He goes to the kitchen after, starting the stove to make some of Keonhee’s favorite ramyeon and chopping some vegetables and sausage to add inside, two eggs just to top it all off. It’s done by the time Keonhee is done changing into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a tee that’s definitely Youngjo’s because it hangs off him - much too large. Youngjo’s heart swells. “Look at you, baby. Maybe I should eat you instead.” He winks.   
  
“Pervert.” Keonhee teases, a common joke between them and Youngjo chuckles.    
  
“Food’s done.”    
  
“You didn’t have to cook, Jo.” Keonhee’s voice is small. The time is late, nearly one in the morning but there’s no reason to be so quiet. Youngjo doesn’t prod.    
  
“I wanted to, not tired enough yet anyway. I’m staying here tonight.” It’s not a question. Youngjo will not leave, not tonight, not for any reason.    
  
“Your computer is - “    
  
“I don’t need it.”    
  
“Your paper is due so soon.” Keonhee tries to argue. Youngjo sets their small living room coffee table with the foods and turns the TV on to some silly cartoon , the volume low.    
  
“I’ve worked hard. I can take a break.” Keonhee doesn’t continue, his eyes fill with that same shame as before. “Baby, I want to spend time with you. I would either way. Why do you think I was here so late?” Keonhee nods, agreeing that the reasoning makes sense and starts to dig in. Youngjo can tell from the unused kitchen, his slimming waist, and the lack of energy that the man hasn’t eaten in maybe a few days.    
  
“This is really good.”    
  
“It’s just ramyeon. I’ll make you real food in the morning.” He pecks his cheek, preening at the praise anyway. Keonhee smiles, excited after days of nothingness to have something to look forward to. To want to wake up. He holds back more tears. “Do you want to talk about it tonight? Should I start?”    
  
Keonhee nods again, grateful to have a boyfriend who gets the ins and outs of this. Even in such a situation, keeping his cool and getting him settled down. It’s not that he owes him an explanation, Keonhee  _ wants _ to talk about it before he forgets it all in sleep.    
  
“I’m sorry.” His throat feels blocked, swallowing down more tears.    
  
“I don’t need an apology, love.” It’s not just him saying it. An apology for something like this is absurd, he gets the idea. He understands that Keonhee wants him to know he’s  _ sorry  _ about almost leaving him without a clue. It just isn’t needed though. Youngjo knows, he’ll always know. The only thing that matters is that Keonhee is  _ here _ , eating his food and getting ready for bed in his arms. “What was it about today that -”    
  
“I just kept thinking that I’ll never find a job.” Keonhee picks at the nearly empty bowl of ramyeon and Youngjo pushes his own bowl at him without a word. Keonhee takes it, grateful.    
  
“You’ve only been looking a few weeks. It will be okay. Do you need anything?”  _ Money _ . Youngjo already helps with some of Keonhee’s bills, the younger sometimes insisting that he pay him back but Youngjo just kisses him and laughs. It’s never a big deal, Youngjo makes more than enough with his cushy IS job for them both. “It will all be okay. No matter what happens, you’ve got me.”    
  
“Right, and so then, I started thinking about what if I mess this all up and I don’t have you anymore.”    
  
“We’ve never had big problems, baby. Are you feeling different about us?”    
  
“No!” Keonhee takes his hand, grasping it tightly. “I - it’s just my head. Not me.”    
  
“You know, even if for some reason I’m not around. You’ll find a way. You’re strong, smart, handsome, charismatic.” He watches as each word flies straight into Keonhee’s eyes, the tension inside softening ever so slightly. Youngjo can’t  _ fix  _ Keonhee’s problem, this one - that he takes medicine for and sometimes still can’t cope - but he can do everything he can to help with it.    
  
“Thank you.” Youngjo is about to say that he doesn’t need that either but decides against it, knowing Keonhee needs to say things like this at times. “I’m glad.” His voice chokes up, he swallows some water and clears it. “That you were here, even if I would be fine tomorrow because I threw it up.”    
  
“I’m always here for you. Papers don’t mean anything to me if you aren’t okay. Grades, jobs. All of it is nothing compared to you.” They finish their food, mostly Keonhee eating and Youngjo slowly cleaning it up. He notices the piles of clothing strewn about the bedroom from the kitchen. “Do we need to do laundry?”    
  
Keonhee flushes. “I - it’s a lot.”    
  
“Nothing the two of us can’t conquer.” The dishes finished, Youngjo walks toward him - sweeping him up bridal style. Keonhee is taller than him by a little, but he weighs practically nothing and Youngjo goes to the gym at least twice a week to work off school and work stress. He laughs at Keonhee’s giggle, ever thankful that he’s feeling up to doing that much tonight. There are days he finds him, unable to make any kind of expression or even talk. Those days, he just makes sure he has anything he needs and lets him be within his caring eyes.    
  
“I love you.” Youngjo’s breath stutters, even though they’ve said it before - not even three months into the relationship because they both just  _ knew _ . Youngjo kisses him in his arms, gently but meaningfully - hoping he receives all the messages it carries.  _ I am so glad you’re still with me. You can tell me anything. You’ll be okay.  _ _   
_ _   
_ “I love you too.”    
  
They climb into bed, Youngjo sleeping in just his underwear like always and Keonhee cuddling up to his side - a position that  _ always  _ makes Youngjo’s arm fall asleep but he refuses to change because it’s Keonhee’s favorite. It’s warm and secure. Youngjo often thinks that he’s never felt better than just lying in bed with Keonhee, just feeling him in his arms as they relax from the days behind them together. Being the  _ pervert _ he is, he enjoys the different kinds of falling into bed with Keonhee a lot as well but they don’t always feel up to that - where they never pass up an opportunity to just lie with each other.    
  
“Do you think I’ll always feel like this?” Keonhee whispers into the dark, into Youngjo’s shoulder. The question tugs at his veins, the answer not clear to either of them. There’s no room to lie.    
  
“I don’t know, love.” Youngjo’s hand runs through his boyfriend’s citrus scented hair, the other hugging him tighter still at the answer. “All I know is that I know you can fight it.”    
  
“I don’t know that I can.” Youngjo feels the sticky tears run down the side of his ribcage from Keonhee’s squeezed shut eyes. He tips his head up to look at him, though the room is too dark to make much out much more than vague shapes.    
  
“You can. I’m here to help but it’s always you, baby. You threw them up all by yourself.”    
  
“I was so scared I wouldn’t see you again wherever I end up.” Youngjo’s heart is in a vice, he chokes back his own tears - the fear that almost overtook him when he opened that front door to that smell sneaking its way back into his mind.    
  
“I was scared too.” He admits.    
  
“I’m sorry.”    
  
“No. It’s not that. Don’t, all that matters is you’re okay.” Youngjo wipes at his own eyes, a few tears escaped. “Please, call me next time. No matter what I’m doing, where I am, I’ll pick up for you.”    
  
“I should be fine even if you can’t.” Keonhee scowls.   
  
“But you don’t  _ have _ to. You’re not alone.”    
  
“I know.” Keonhee is working to be okay on his own, though he doesn’t have to, but until he is - he has Youngjo to help share the burden. It’s not one-sided in any way. Keonhee takes his share of sleepless nights taking care of a burned out Youngjo, yelling about quitting graduate school or after a fight with his parents once more. They take care of each other, and there’s no need for thank yous or sorrys, though they both say their fair share despite it. Keonhee knows deep down he’s strong enough to fight it out on his own if he needs to, but it matters a lot that he doesn’t. They talk more of anxieties, and dark thoughts, of strategies and appointments and the prospect of medicine - until they fall asleep. Keonhee wakes to a heavenly smell of fresh baked pastries and expensive coffee, his boyfriend’s lovely smile, and the hope that today will be a good day - even if it isn’t, there’s always the next. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave a comment if you want. : )


End file.
